


Too Late to Change

by ProcrastinationIsMyCrime



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complete, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28643073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinationIsMyCrime/pseuds/ProcrastinationIsMyCrime
Summary: He feels trapped. The odds stacked against him, and Merlin is in doubt that things will turn for the better. What used to be a joke has become reality for Merlin, and there is no denying it. Six months have past since defeating Morgana and Helios, and he'd hoped to have proven himself to his friend and king, but apparently not. The future looks bleak. One shot. Post Season 4.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Too Late to Change

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin**

"Blah" Normal speech

'Blah' Quote

_"Blah" T_ elepathy/flashback or dream dialogue

_Blah_ Thoughts/Emphasised words

**Too Late to Change**

**By ProcrastinationIsMyCrime**

It was late into the night as Merlin stood atop the southern gatehouse. The forest surrounding the city of Camelot, strong winds whipping the trees, seemed like a ring of green fire, making them appear to be alive. He sighed in resignation as his thoughts wandered back to the events of the past six months. Ever since the drama of reclaiming Camelot for the second time six months ago, there'd only been a couple of skirmishes against bandits, thieves, and slave traders attacking the outlying villages. So many times his suggestions had been brushed aside by Arthur just before the fighting started.

_Perhaps they weren't as good as I'd thought they were, otherwise Arthur might have considered them._

After all, he'd been serving the prince-turned-king for six years and should be trusted by said royal, but it didn't seem to be the case. There were only two people in Camelot that listened to Merlin and not take his words as a joke; Gaius and Gwaine. Gaius was Merlin's mentor and naturally paid attention when he needed to tell Gaius something important, but it wasn't the same. Gwaine, on the other hand, who knew about his magic and did listen, couldn't act freely on Merlin's information without feeding an excuse to Arthur first. Otherwise the knight was a good friend, who genuinely asked questions during the odd situations Merlin sometimes found himself in.

The warlock leaned against the edge of the stone structure on his elbows and sighed, drooping his head. Arthur had known him for six years; had been calling him an idiot for six years. Sure, at the beginning of it all his then-prince called him one in jest often and didn't brush off Merlin's advice as much. The sad truth however was that this alleged Once and Future King no longer took Merlin's advice for what it was. Now he ignored it, or laughed.

Merlin's supposed destiny was constantly out of reach. Something he'd long denied, but his resolve was crumbling. It was nigh impossible to get Arthur to see the true beauty magic could be. While Merlin fought the silent war against vengeful magic users, Arthur's perspective on magic continued to fall to new lows; the latest decline was Merlin's own fault when he'd attempted to heal Uther and failed while disguised. As a result, Arthur believed 'Dragoon' had murdered his father. Morgana's second attempt for the throne had been nothing new to Arthur and merely reinforced what he'd been raised to believe.

" _..it is pure evil."_

The night he'd heard Arthur utter those words, he'd wanted to wake up from the nightmare that never ended. His continuous failure made Merlin wish very much that he wasn't referred to as Emrys and that Kilgharrah was wrong about all of this.

Worried someone would come upon the unconscious guard and discover him, Merlin released the sleeping spell he'd used on the guard and teleported to the clearing where he'd faced Kilgharrah, the dragon angered, all those years ago.

The current lull in danger and haste that Merlin frequently found himself in during the years, especially the last couple, made his loneliness stick out like a sore thumb. One of his few friends, Gwen, had changed when she married Arthur. Unknowingly she'd left Merlin behind in a manner that didn't come without side effects.

_I understand she is Queen of Camelot and has her duties, but is it too much to ask for her to pay me a social visit? Or am I not worth her time any more?_

Her climb from servant to queen was a large one and public image was a part of her duties. It needed to be maintained but was he, Merlin, an assumed idiot, a stain on her image she needed to wash out? They saw each other during the day, true, but those were times when they both were in the company of Arthur. Or Merlin completing a chore the king had ordered. They weren't real moments together.

The knights were kept occupied following the orders of one sort or another. If it wasn't a patrol Arthur wasn't a part of, then it was training. Gwaine was the only one who knew about Merlin's magic. However he frequented The Rising Sun too often and continually tried to coax Merlin into coming, which Merlin always declined. It wasn't an option for Merlin, since as Gaius had put it years ago, 'A whiff of a barmaid's apron would have him singing like a sailor', let alone the copious amounts the knight would likely try to get him to drink.

He couldn't risk that, couldn't risk the high probability that he'd spill his most dangerous secret. Merlin was no fool. Contrary to Arthur's belief.

In the clearing and gaze up to the stars, he remembered the couple of times that he'd been astride Kilgharrah in the night sky, and the somewhat sense of fitting in when in the Great Dragon's company. He missed the presence of his kin and simply wanted some companionship, but knowing that Kilgharrah was more than likely occupied doing whatever he spends his time doing, let's not forget that he wasn't much of the aimless talking type. No matter how cryptic he could be sometimes.

Merlin pondered about Aithusa whom he'd hatched little over a year ago. He hadn't seen her since. Focussing his thoughts on the white dragon, he spoke the words in the dragon tongue.

" _O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes!"_

Settling down against the trunk of a tree, he closed his deep blue eyes. Mind on his magic, for he was alone. And like Gaius cautiously pouring a volatile or strong acting ingredient, Merlin slowly weakened his instinctive hold on his magic and let it run free; the wildflowers in the area became more vibrant; the grass turned a healthy green and shoots grew in upturned dirt; the trees took on a stronger look as the weaker branches grew slightly, strengthening their connection with the trunks.

Magic could do so much good for this kingdom if it was used in the right way. But he knew that he'd missed his chance multiple times, each time worse than the last mistake. So few opportunities he'd been given, and for every one of them he'd messed up, the possibility of Arthur coming to accept 'good' magic further distanced itself. The persistent attacks from Morgana hadn't help in his endeavour; only increasing the width of the crevice between magic-users and the freedom to use it.

Oh, how much he yearned for the freedom to do this at any moment. Without the need for solitude or the cover of darkness. The grip he had to apply to his magic every day, especially during emotional moments, served to remind him of what he needed to do. Even in the presence of Gaius in the physician's chamber, or his own late at night or early morning Merlin was reprimanded for the most innocuous acts of magic that existed.

To simply let go and submerge himself in the natural magic he could sense. To enjoy the caring, nurturing feel it gave off as he became one with it. For an immeasurable amount of time Merlin welcomed the rejuvenating quality of nature's magic, relishing in the peaceful, gentle waves of energy as they rolled over his body.

He didn't know how long he'd been lost in his thoughts of what could have been, and the peaceful effect that wild magic had on him. But his attention was pulled from it when he a snout prodded at his shoulder.

Opening his eyes, he gasped at the sight of an injured white dragon. He was careful not to jump up in alarm at the seeing the dark red blood staining her beautiful, white scales. It would risk hurting her. Leading the young dragon into the cover of the trees and away from potential watching eyes, he quietly summoned water from a nearby lake and thoroughly washed it off. He took caution, otherwise he'd aggravate the wounds, particularly the underbelly which was still partially soft due to her young age.

"Aithusa, what happened to you? I thought you were with Kilgharrah, he would never forgive himself if you were injured in his care," he enquired, his voice laced with concern, gently rubbing her cheek as he looked her in the eyes.

It seemed that Aithusa had only learnt a marginal amount of human speech, however that was quickly solved.

_Flying over a forest Aithusa spotted an injured woman lying on the floor of leaves, branches and dirt, who appeared to be unconscious. Slowly circling down to the ground Aithusa took attentive steps towards the brunette and gently sniffed the air, becoming alarmed at the smell of blood wafting from the body._

Merlin stiffened slightly at the sight of Morgana near Aithusa but remained quiet and continued to watch the vision in his mind. She was supposed to be dead.

_Using magic for the first time, the dragon breathed onto the woman wishing her to heal and get better. After a day of watching over her the woman eventually came around and at first was panicked but when she established this magical creature meant no harm, she relaxed._

He was alarmed that Morgana had been healed, but the fact that she hadn't done anything to Camelot and her people for months since Camelot was reclaimed left Merlin a little worried. In the past, if she'd remained quiet for any extended period of time the next moved she made against Arthur was worse than the usual 'kill Arthur' schemes or other attempts to tear the people of the citadel apart.

_For several weeks, the witch and Aithusa spent time together and venturing to whatever place Morgana had in mind. However, when the memories reached the current night there was an ambush by far too many bandits and Aithusa was forced to flee upon feeling the undeniable power of a dragonlord's summoning. As the white dragon regrettably flew away from the scene below, Morgana's screams of betrayal pierced Aithusa's heart and saddened her when the raging woman was knocked unconscious and chained with manacle bearing the markings of the Old Religion._

Merlin was stunned. Never had he ever thought that Aithusa would become acquaintances with the vengeful Pendragon, and was unnerved at what could have become of Aithusa if she'd spent any more time with Morgana. All young beings were impressionable and he could only hope that the witch hadn't gotten her figurative claws too deeply into Aithusa's mind and manipulated one of Camelot's - no _Albion's_ greatest hopes.

He again released his control on his magic, but this time did so with the intent on healing as he dug deep inside himself, even if this type of magic wasn't one of those that he was best at he could still help somewhat. At least he could do something right.

After the number of times Arthur and himself either got injured, or being involved with those injured, he should have studied healing magic as a precaution should medical help be needed. But no, he hadn't done as much as he should've and left himself and company at a disadvantage.

When Aithusa's most prominent injuries had healed and closed, stemming the blood flow, leaving her with superficial cuts. He cleaned them with pure water to help prevent infection, but it seemed that the young dragon had beaten him to it, and the cuts slowly closed as Aithusa used both Merlin's and her own magic to finish the job.

The more he observed Aithusa, it became clear that she wasn't about to become tired. Neither was Merlin, if he was to be honest. Walking through the Darkling Woods using a spell to conceal any sound, he kept the dragon close, and by the time the sun was starting to peek out from the horizon, they were on open ground and heading towards The Vale of Denaria. To the north of the vale was a ruined castle, the one where the Knights of the Round Table had formed, if he wasn't mistaken.

Given that he wanted to keep close to Camelot in case he needed to defend the city, the ruined castle was probably most suitable for both of them considering that Aithusa wasn't too big to navigate the inside just yet. The closer he was to Camelot the less energy he'd need for teleporting to the catacombs, and leave him with more for fighting if things came to that. Anywhere else he thought of would risk Aithusa being sighted. The last thing he needed was for the young dragon to be on the run from the knights of Camelot.

They continued on towards the ruined castle in silent company, but when they had breakfast Merlin shared some of his happier memories with Aithusa, smiling when her eyes glinted with humour. She may not know the words, but interaction between people alone was enough to tell most of any story. The goblin incident seemed to be one of her favourites, especially when Arthur was braying like a donkey.

As they journeyed to their destination he started working on her human speech; beginning with simple words and only a few at a time. Telepathy and memory sharing did wonders as he projected the image of an object and said the word aloud. Aithusa, however, seemed to be having trouble with pronunciation but could repeat it back with her mind. After a fair while of verbal speech being dead set against him and Aithusa, he settled for images and telepathy, but still said them aloud himself the first few times.

He knew she could look after herself, however, for lunch Merlin made a game out of gathering the food; he would only pick up or hunt something if Aithusa could tell him the name. Although it took some time and much rumbling of stomachs, the game was quite productive and the little dragon had increased its vocabulary by triple, increasing it to thirty words since they'd started this morning.

By the time they reached the castle the sun was beginning to set and they made quick work of finding dinner, deciding to forego the 'name game', as they'd called it. While Aithusa had the fish from a nearby river and Merlin chewed on the berries he'd foraged not too far away. And so this is how Merlin intended to spend his two weeks away. In a ruined castle in the company of the dragon that he'd summon from the egg, working hard to strengthen the bond between them as dragonlord and dragon. Emrys and Light of the Sun. Merlin and Aithusa.

On the second last day of his time off, Aithusa surprised him whilst they were eating their dinner, after he'd finished scrying the citadel for the third time that day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. He had to check to keep his ever-lasting concern at bay.

"Merlin, I feel what you feel. I don't understand why, but I do, and if there is one thing that I know, it is that there will always be obstacles," she began in an encouraging tone. "Arthur doesn't know what you do for him, but things won't get better unless you tell him the truth," the white dragon explained aloud sympathetically. "Just as things would have been difficult between us if you hadn't explained and shown me in your memories what Morgana truly is capable of. What she is to the people of Camelot," Aithusa said, trying to relate with Merlin.

Bumping her snout against his shoulder before taking off towards her dais in the throne room, she said one last thing for the night "You've shown me nearly your whole life in Camelot and with Arthur, Merlin, and he obviously cares about you, in his own way," Aithusa continued a little sleepily.

She her head towards him. "I know you want to prove to him you're more than he thinks, and to do that you will need to fight the title he has given you. I don't know what I'd do to start that fight but you will come up with something Merlin. I believe in you," she finished before closing her eyes.

He was touched that Aithusa had such faith in him, but the bitter feeling of doubt was creeping back into his mind as he reminded him of all of his failures towards the fate of magic users.

Atop the damaged tower where they'd eaten that night and looked to the south, he wondered if he'd ever prove to Arthur that he wasn't an idiot. That was the first task.

Total buffoon, ridiculous, a girl, on the cider, completely useless, dumb; and that was only half a dozen of the other names that Arthur had dished out, but they all related back to one in particular.

_Idiot_

_Will the king ever think of me as more than a stupid servant? Or come to accept magic?_

"No," Merlin answered his own question "It's too late for that to ever change,"

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